Date: Sun, 23 May 2010 08:26:36 +0100
From: David Ashford
Subject: SLIPPERING PETER BAKER by Nigel Dean Gay Male Authoritarian
*SLIPPERING PETER BAKER By Nigel Dean*
david.a@guyzstudio.com
I hope you find a little pleasure in this story, I have many more I will be
submitting soon to Nifty but if you would like to have a read now just drop
me an e-mail. I also have lots of genuine pics and some vid clips of me
spanking - happy to share with anyone. Just Ask.
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"Can I ask you something ?"
"Yeh."
"When you were at school did you ever get the slipper ?"
"Loads of times, and the cane once."
"It's not the cane that interests me but the slipper."
My mate Peter and I were camping in North Cornwall, we'd gone down to the
West Country for some mackerel fishing, we hadn't caught much that day in
fact we hadn't caught anything which is a fairly difficult thing to do given
just how many fish there are in the Atlantic Waters off the North Cornwall
Coast. But there was more to our holiday than fishing, as we chatted we both
had a can of beer in hand with more than enough in reserve to last the
night. Perhaps we would share a wank together later, that would be good.
"Did it hurt ?" Peter continued. Bloody silly question.
"Of course it hurt ! I had it once in PE wearing nothing more than shorts,
that fucking hurt."
"Nice."
"What do you mean nice ? Wasn't nice at all !"
Peter was a little younger than I was, we had not been to the same school
but became mates a couple of years prior to the time in which my story is
set. Peter Baker was good looking with the cheekiest possible smile, long
wavy dark hair and an toned body. Yes I had seen Peter naked several times
and he had seen me as nature intended, we would often go to our local
leisure centre for a swim and a sauna. Once when we were the only two there
in the sauna we had wanked together, that was a fantastic time.
Peter smiled. "I was never slippered at school, I was far too much a good
boy but I can't help wondering what it was like. Tell me."
"What is there to tell ? You were told to bend over, usually you had put
your hands on your knees but sometimes it was bend over a desk the the
teacher whacked a gym plimsole into your arse, usually three times."
"Did you ever get it on your bare arse?"
"No thank god but there was one teacher who in PE would make a lad drop his
shorts and whack a naked arse."
"Did you ever see him do that ?"
"Yeh a couple of times."
Peter shifted from resting on his back and turned sideways to face me. The
depth of his enquiry moved with his body position.
"Tell me, was being slippered horny ?"
"How can it be horny, it fucking hurt ?"
"I'd have found it horny, particularly if I had it with my shorts down and
across a bare arse. I'd have probably got an extra one for having a stiff
cock."
I wasn't particularly interested in reliving some painful schoolboy memories
but if the conversation steered my friend to sharing a wank then I was happy
to go along with it.
"I got a hard on once when the teacher in PE slippered ten lads and made
them all stand in a line then pull their shorts down. Ten naked arses
pointing towards me was fun. I was sitting on the gym floor so looking up
towards them, yeh that was horny."
"God, I'd have loved that ! I'd have loved it even more if I was one of the
ten."
"Yeh well you have got a nice arse, I'll give you that."
"Have I ?"
"Yeh."
"Would it have been good for slippering ?"
"Definately."
"I'd have liked to be bollock naked when slippered. Mmmm That would be so
horny."
"Well you should have been a bit more naughty when you were at school."
"I could be naughty now."
"I bet you could."
"So if I was naughty would you slipper me, naked on my bare arse ? Now ?"
"There's not a lot of room inside this tent for that and besides the noise
would be heard all over the camp site."
Peter shifted his body again, put down his beer can and moved his face close
to mine. He spoke softly and looked into my eyes.
"Give it a few hours, wait until after midnight then we can wall out onto
the headland, nobody will be about then. I'll strip bollock naked and you
can slipper me. Hard."
I thought for a moment. "OK."
"See how hard you can make it."
"OK."
"See how hard you can slipper my arse and see how hard you can make my
cock."
My own cock was rock hard as we talked. I'd not spanked anyone before
although I knew it was a popular man-fun sexual pleasure. Peter Baker naked
and presenting his arse to me was a prospect to send my cock into fits of
solidity to equate with hardened steel. But there was more yet to come from
Peter Baker.
"And would you be naked when you slipper me ?"
How my cock did not explode at that suggestion I can not understand. I felt
it's warm shaft pressing hard against my lower abdomen. It was a dream, I
must have fallen asleep but no it was real enough.
I don't remember what time we began our conversation, it was not dark and
the summer sunshine penetrated the fabric of the tent. Slowly the light
faded, we talking in the darkness, occasionally stitching on a torch when
one of us needed another can of beer. The general background noise of the
camp site dulled as one by one people turned into sleep. Sleep was the last
think on my mind.
Peter shone the torch on his watch. "Give it another hour," he said, "then
are you up for giving my arse the whacking of a lifetime."
Time perhaps to attend to the practicalities of what we were about to do.
"So you want me to whack your arse ?"
"That's the general idea. Smack it hard with one of your trainers."
"Teachers at school used to use a gym plimsole, I don't have one but I do
have those canvas deck shoes I brought incase we went fishing from a boat
some time."
"Show me."
I rummaged about an found my blue canvas shoes, I took the right one and
handed it to Peter. He held the sole in his fist then whacked it into the
palm of his other hand.
"Yeh that will do nicely. Surely there won't be anyone about now," he
continued, "what do you say we make a start ?"
My cock had been hard for hours but eased its tension slightly as the hours
crawled by, those words of Peter's sprang it back to attention. I would
enjoy slippering my friend but it was the possibility of a post spanking
wank really excited me. He was right there wouldn't be anyone else about
that time of night.
"Let's do this."
It was a warm summer night, a cloudless sky but still warm in the air. There
was a half moon so it was light but not as bright as a full moon would have
been. We zipped up the tent and headed towards the gate in the field which
led out to the cliff top path along the headland. To the north and away to
our right the beam of Trevose Head lighthouse carved through the night. Away
to the left the late nights of Newquay twinkled in the distance..
"I have wanted to have my arse whacked for ages," Peter giggled. "I can't
wait."
"You are sure about this ?"
"Absolutely."
We walked far into the night then turned off the worn path treading
carefully between the gorse, the sound of the Atlantic breakers several
hundred feet below us filed the air and would deafen any sounds of my
slipper falling on Peter's bottom. What if he cried out in pain ? Would
they also drown the screams ?
"Here will do." Peter stopped suddenly. "Time to get naked."
He pulled his shirt up over his head then undid the button on his jeans
before pulling them and his underpants down in a single movement. He hopped
about as he tried to step out while keeping his trainers on.
"Better keep our shoes on, don't know what we might tread on in the dark."
I just stood and looked.
"Come on, get yours off," he giggled, "I want a totally naked slippering."
I hesitated for just a moment then joined my friend in midnight nudity.
"Nice cock," he smiled.
"It's not that you haven't seen it before."
My friend too was rock hard and pointing to the sky. He took his cock in
his right hand and gave it a pump. "That's for later. Fist the
slippering. How do you want me ?"
How was I actually going to do this ? I didn't know, I'd not done anything
like this before. My mind tracked back to those schoolboy years. All those
mates I had seen have their bottoms smacked. The times I had my own bottom
whacked. I would do my best to emulate.
"You'd better bend over then."
"Like this." Peter leaned forward and placed his hand on his knees. He
turned a head to look at me. "Is that OK ?"
I took hold of him just above the hips and adjusted ever so slightly his
stance. There we were both naked save of trainers and socks, one bending
over like a naughty schoolboy while the other stood in awe and amazement. I
mentally pinched myself, no I was not dreaming. What a magnificent backside
Peter had, two peach-formed cheeks rounded and full, bisected by a line, a
line that suddenly brought to my mind thoughts I had not considered before.
I stroked the sole of the slipper across the two cheeks, carefully
considering what I would do next.
"Ready ?" I asked.
"Ready," Peter confirmed.
I pulled my arm back and in the moonlight eyed where I would bring the
slipper to rest. I prepared the muscles I would use and turned my mind to
the force I would apply. It felt as if I were debating in the deepest parts
of my mind for eternity what I was about to do, how I was going to do it.
Eventually I switched off my mind and allowed my physical being to take
over. Moving from my shoulder then down it's entire length my arm swung with
the slipper descending. It hit with a resounding crack landing on both
buttocks. I swear the sound was greater than the roar of the breakers on the
rocks below, I hoped nobody heard. The crack was quickly followed by a gasp
from Peter as he audibly released a reaction to the pain and at the same
time taking a sharp intake of breath.
"You OK ?"
"Absolutely."
The second whack landed exactly on top of the first. It hurt Peter, his cry
this time was of genuine pain but was followed by words telling me not to
stop.
The first time I had been slippered at school I was only twelve years old, I
was given two whacks over my boyish trousers. My offence ? Untidy
presentation of work ! Did it hurt ? Too true it bloody well hurt !
My friend's bottom must also have been hurting, hurting more than my own
slippering all those years previously. While I was thinking my auto pilot
had kicked in and my arm was already descending for number three. Crack !
Three was the usual number for a naughty boy to receive. If the crime
demanded more than three then it was probably the cant that would have been
used not the slipper. That said a friend of mine was given six whacks with
the slipper.
"You still OK ?"
"Yeh, Ok here." His words were tight, spoken through teeth clenched and
fighting back an outward expression of pain.
"Want to stop ?"
"Not yet."
"How many ?"
"Go for six."
Even in the diminished light of the night I could see the marks I had left
on my friend's beautiful arse cheeks. Six, three more ? Better get on with
it.
WHACK ! That was four. I was not quite sure how I felt about what I was
doing. In the short moments between strokes my brain computed at double
speed. Back in the tent I had excited at the prospect of a naked spanking
with my friend, when he bent over and presented his bottom to me it was
erotic for sure. The first whack was sensual and a delight but as the
punishment progressed and the obvious pain I was inflicting left me feeling
ill at ease.
WHACK ! Number five. I stroked the slipper down with less force than before.
Just one more and it would be over.
WHACK ! There, done it. Finished. I stood with my heart beating, chest
pounding, mind racing - what now.
Peter rose slowly and placed the palms of his hands on his bottom, gently at
first tenderly exploring the bruising I had given the never so gently he
began to rub. I moved my hand to add its caressing soothing touch to the
wounded area. As my palms rested on Peter he removed his own hands and let
out a soft sigh of pleasure. I knelt down so my face was level with Peter's
bottom then gently pecked a kiss on each cheek. I repeated the kissing a few
times before Peter turned to face me, his rock solid cock directly in front
of my face. During the slippering my own erection had lost some of its level
of strength but now returned with terrifying velocity.
Peter placed a hand on his cock and made it point directly to my mouth. I
salivated in anticipation before pecking a kiss on his head. I felt Peter
gently pushing me towards him, pushing with his hand on the top of my head
and pushing with his inner will sending psychic thoughts deep into my own
mind.
My lips kissed the top of his cock again then parted ever so slightly to let
the head into the front of my mouth. Peter was wet with precum which
mingled with my saliva into an new and wonderful oral juice. My tongue
wrapped it round his head. It was out of this world. I was out of the world
of the spanking and transported to something quite new. Slowly I took more
of my friend's manhood inside my mouth, more and more. With each portion I
sucked deeper. With each portion of cock in my mouth I became more aroused.
My friend was already aroused, more aroused then he could contain. With a
lurch of his body first of all backwards then then pressing against my face
he came into my mouth. Looking back now I am amazed that I did not gag, my
mouth was full of throbbing cock which fired hot plasma into my throat like
a jet from a flame thrower. There was an instinctive reaction as my lips
tightened to form a vacuum then with a single motion I swallowed. What a
taste. it was beluga caviar, it was Chateau Lafite 1787, it was a meal
served at The Ritz Hotel. There we were naked, the warm midnight air playing
on our bodies, far below the Atlantic Ocean crashed against the rocks and I
had just partaken of the finest meal from the menu of a master chef.
Eventually I released Peter's cock from my mouth. I needed him to suck me
and relieve the latent forces coiled within me. But Peter had other ideas.
He turned his back to me, his spanked bottom to me, again bending forward
to present it once more but this time it was not for slippering. The tips of
my fingers caressed the cheeks where just a short while before I had brought
the pain of the slipper to rest. Gently they stroked the peach-like bruised
surface before moving to the delineating line bisecting their shape and
gently feeling a way inside. My index finger found what it was looking for,
gently making its way inside. Peter responded with a warm sigh which
deepened as a second finger made its way inside. But this was only the
overture. Withdrawing I changed stance to position myself ready for the
climax of our nighttime adventure. A hand on the side of each hip steadied
us both as my cock began to probe its way to the ultimate destiny. I did not
need to touch it, I did not need to guide it, nature took over and very soon
I was inside my friend. Deeper I penetrated, deeper until finally my groin
came to rest against Peter. The contours of our bodies met in a harmony of
shape.
I left the position as it was for a time then gently withdrew before
thrusting back in with a single driving force. This was a slow but
determined action which I repeated a number of times before increasing the
momentum until I was pounding in an out like a piston. My groin slapped
against his bottom hitting almost as hard as the slipper had done earlier.
peter was crying out in delight, crying loudly but I could not have cared
who heard us. I had been sexually high for several hours so it was not long
before I came. I came with a energy and strength the like of which I had not
before been aware my body could contain. I thought I was going to explode.
Finally it was all over, the slippering, the sucking, the fucking. We began
to pick up out clothing and dress. the night air now felt cool even slightly
cold. The moon was still bright enough for us to see one another and the
expressions on our faces. Peter looked at me and smiled.
"So that was the slipper. Tomorrow you can tell me about the cane."
"I thought you were not interested in the cane."
"I am now !"